Celestial
by clandestine.masquerade
Summary: Follow Jen as she rips apart social barriers, is attacked by a looney Divination teacher, and plays a not-so-innocent game with Black... all while stubbornly denying the love polluting the air is real. SB/OC.
1. Childhood

**Author's Note:** Recently, I have been caught in the whirlwind that is Sirius/OC fan fictions. I began exploring the creative realm of my mind, and Geneva jumped out at me, begging to be written about. So here she is!

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Ever since my father left my mother, I refused to believe in love. Love, after all, is a figment of the imagination; a playful combination of compatibility and the roots of animalistic attraction. Nothing about the concept of love is real. Marriage is, in a nutshell, a business transaction. Valentine's Day is a clever facade thought up by confectionary shops to sell more candy to adults and silly adolescents. Fairy tales were designed to teach children lessons and to lull them to sleep. Everything was a carefully devised scheme to redirect hurt and human emotion. And so, I avoided the thought of love at all costs.

When I was a little girl, I primed and prepared for my handsome young prince to come. I always wore sparkly pink princess costumes with puffy sleeves and full skirt I would constantly trip on, and a plastic tiara with rhinestones glimmering in the face. I brushed my favorite Barbie's hair twice daily, morning and night, as well as hug her close whenever I watched Disney movies. My mother still has a videotape of me, in my pink dress, sucking my fingers as I gazed up in awe at Cinderella's smiling face at the ball. My legs were splayed out in front of me, and my Barbie was lying between my legs, next to my sippy cup. She still shows me that recording, every year on my birthday.

I was just growing into my boys-aren't-that-icky phase when my Da left. He told Mum he wasn't happy and it wasn't working. He said he met this wonderful woman on a business trip in America, and they fell in love. After he left, taking only his books, clothes, and a few pictures of me, Mum didn't stop crying for two days. I was really angry, or as angry as an eight year old can possibly muster, and I tried to help. It didn't work very well. I caught the toaster on fire twice in the first week. Eventually, however, I realized that it wasn't my Da's fault. The business transaction just didn't work out, and he found a better partner who benefited his business more.

Over the course of the next year, I matured much faster than a typical eight (and a half) year old should. After a while, I stopped whining about homework and studying and school and chores, and resigned myself to just do them. I began to ignore my friends, instead of talking to them in class. I only spoke to them when we ate lunch, and eventually they just started to ignore me. They stopped inviting me over to play Barbie's and dress up. Though I lost my friends, my marks improved, which pleased my Mum just as much as it displeased her to see me lonely. I was, or had become, sullen and quiet, and people generally stopped bothering to speak to me at all.

After all, I never responded.

By the time I started my fourth year of primary school, strange things started to happen all around me. Once, I dropped a teacup, which promptly shattered on the floor of the kitchen. I swept it up like a good girl, tossing it in the bin. The next morning, my mother was throwing away an empty carton of milk. She gasped, her hands flying to her hips and her foot tapping an unfamiliar rhythm. "What's this doing here?" she asked, pulling a shiny new teacup from the bin.

On another occasion, when I got angry at a boy for constantly tugging at my pig tails, his body started growing taller and taller, stretching towards the sky like taffy, his voice elevating a whole two octaves. I got a bit frightened and started to panic, scurrying around in circles and fretting about what my teacher would do when she saw. He immediately sprung back to his original stature. He told on me, but in the end everyone thought he was mental. They sent him to an all-boys school in Scotland to be sorted out.

Soon, everyone who irritated or angered me had odd things happen to him or her. I didn't mean them to, they just did. Another boy's milk box blew up in his face when he made fun of me for accidentally staining my shirt. A girl's skirt flew up every time she teased a boy, the only boy who talked to me civilly. Eventually, people saw patterns. And they avoided me like the plague. Even the nice boy wouldn't talk to me.

By the time I turned ten, Mum couldn't afford to keep us living in the big old house on her low secretary salary. She moved us to a small house on the outskirts of London. It was old and dingy, and not well taken care of, but mum said it had "charm". I consented with a nod of my head, and began trying to sweep cobwebs out of the corners of my new room.

I continued to spend most of my time on my schoolwork. It started to consume me, and I began to yearn for the outdoors. On day I hesitantly wandered onto the front step, blinking away the sun. In front of me was an ancient, rusty fence, low and designed to keep cats and dogs away from the garden that ate up the front yard. The garden was flourishing in the sweet, humid June air, and bumblebees were hovering lazily above. A thin paved road was beyond that, typical of the older parts of London. Across the road was an old park, overgrown with large evergreen trees, as well as trees, fat with new, brightly colored leaves. The painted wooden arch above the entrance said something, though it was hard to tell; the paint was chipping and peeling away. I squinted feebly, barely making out the words "Grimmauld Park". With a content sigh, I set out, opening the gate and stopping at the curb before the street. I sat with a huff, and settled myself in to watch the cars and bicycles go by.

After a few minutes, I grew bored and tired from the warm air. I set my chin in my palms, closing my eyes to let the sun beat down on them. I felt more alone than ever.

"Hi!" a young voice piped excitedly. I jumped, looking, irritated, at the source. My brows were drawn and my lips pursed ever so slightly, signaling that I was not to be messed with. However, the young boy before me seemed undaunted. He has long, shoulder-length hair and a broad smile plastered on his soft pink lips.

I responded, clearly annoyed, "Hello."

"Hi, I'm Sirius!" he grinned, sticking his hand under my nose and sitting beside me. "I've never seen you around here before, so I thought I'd say hello—"

I cut him off, taking his hand firmly, "I'm Jen Steller. Well, Geneva, anyway, but everyone calls me Jen. I live there," I stated stiffly, pointing behind me. Sirius grinned again, nodding.

"Yeah, I live in number twelve. Nasty old place, but it's home. It's down there," he said, his smile never faltering as he pointed away from me, down the road. "I've never had anyone to play with before! You know, besides Bella and Cissy and my brother. 'Dromada is the best, though. She's always nice. But I can play with you all the time!"

I suppressed a groan, looking at him with my dark eyebrows raised. "Why would you want to play with _me_?"

He shrugged. "'Cause I like you, you seem nice."

I smiled, "And I like you, you're the only one whose nice to me," I paused, crinkling my nose, "Everyone else thinks I'm weird."

"Why?"

"Weird things happen to me."

"Oh," he said quietly, "Well me too!" He jumped back into the conversation full force, the smile resurfacing.

For the first time in a while, I giggled, "I can tell!"

"Friends?"

"Friends," I laughed, grasping his hand again. From behind, I heard my mother's dulcet tones rocking the house, screaming my name. I heard a note of panic in her voice, and I briefly wondered if she even thought I _could_ be outside. I let a frown crease my face for a moment, then shrugged to Sirius. He had a curious look on his face, and he was looking at my house in silence. Eventually, I knew I had to leave. I stood up, heading inside to tell Mum about my new friend, and to let her know that I was still alive. At the door, I paused. With a friendly wave, I called, "'Bye Sirius!"

"'Bye Jen!" I heard as I closed the door behind me. I was beaming, and all of a sudden the house looked so much more inviting. I skipped to the kitchen, pulling out cookies to snack on. _Strange name, strange boy_, I thought, _we're going to be best friends for a long time… I can tell_.

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**Author's Note:** Thanks for reading! I need feedback (as always), so I would like to request a review or two telling me how I did? Thanks. :)

Also, I am also known as Equilibrium at Harry Potter Fan Fiction. If you doubt me, you can always message her on the forums, under the same username. :) Thank you again, and have a nice day!


	2. Quill

On a typical day, I will wake myself at precisely seven o'clock in the morning

**Author's Note:** I'm so sorry that I didn't update before. I honestly wanted to, but as soon as I sat down to write, the creativity was sucked right out of me, and I could not for the life of me write a chapter that is completely up to my standards. I am so sorry. I did, however, promise you that it would be out no later than Wednesday, and so, here it is! I hope it's okay.

On a typical day, I will wake myself at precisely seven o'clock in the morning. I have kept this routine since I was in second grade, and received an alarm clock for Christmas. At the time, I did not know how to adjust the setting for the alarm, and I therefore simply adjusted myself to the clock. Eventually, I did learn how to work the stupid thing, but I figured it was a good habit to start my day early, and kept the time exactly as it always was.

On this day, however, a dim summer morning that promised a day full of rain and little shine, I was roused by the sound of something striking my window. At first, it was a dull sound that irritated me in my sleep, only making me stir a bit as if to warn off the offensive sound. Soon, the volume increased to that of hail pelting glass, and I groaned. Lifting my head and letting my ruffled hair falling to my shoulders, I peeked from under my duvet to see a peculiar bird flapping its wings and pecking at my window. I was quite surprised by the appearance of this bird, having never encountered a wild flying creature of it's size before, much less seen one attacking an innocent windowpane on the outskirts of London. I gave myself a minute to collect my scattered thoughts, and concluded this was indeed _not_ a dream. Even if it were, I would not consider it to be a particularly pleasant dream. With a grunt and a kick, my duvet flew up, and I twisted myself off of my mattress. I slumped over, tripping my way to the window and banging my fist against it angrily.

The bird was of the determined sort, however, and stood its ground. It shot a glare my way, and I blinked at the strange sight. A _bird_ glared at me. Deciding there was no other way to handle the situation, I opened the window to yell at the bird. Before I did a thing, however, it came soaring into my bedroom, swooping around several times and landing on my studying table, ruffling it's feathers contently. I stared at it, my mouth agape, and walked over to it for closer inspection.

It had soft, caramel colored feathers covering its body, which was rather small and round. The head, also squat and quite round, held two large, orb-like yellow eyes that shined healthily in the dim morning light. I assumed it was an owl, but as I had never held an interest in birds, I could only guess. It blinked at me, hopping forward on one leg, the other being held out before it. I looked at the leg, with had a piece of twine holding an old, worn envelope to the scrawny leg.

I hesitantly reached forward for the paper, my hand shaking a bit. Untying the string, I took the envelope slowly. I patted the owl softly, not wishing to harm a feather on its relatively small head. I whispered a thank you, to which it cooed happily, rubbing its head against my hand again. It reminded me of a pet cat. "Do you have a name?" I asked, looking up at it honestly. To my surprise, it shook its head, looking quite sad. "Would you like me to name you?" It looked up, hopefully, clicking its beak together excitedly. "You would, eh?" I hopped around a bit. I smiled, cocking my head to the side a bit to think. Its head followed my movement. "You're so adorable! You remind me of… of old things; simple things. Like carriages and quills and ink, and love stories!" It flapped its wings again, clearly impatient. "I'll call you… Hmm… What about Quill?" I asked the owl, lowering my face down to its level. I cooed again, jumping up and flapping its wings. It soared around the room as I laughed excitedly. It flew to the window, stopped to look back at me, and flew away, into the hazy sky. I waved, biting my lip a bit. I liked the owl, a lot.

In the excitement, I had forgotten about the letter clutched firmly in my hand. I looked at it curiously and gasped at what it said on its face.

_Miss Geneva M. Steller__  
__Her Bedroom__  
__10, Grimmauld Place__  
__London_  
I was awestruck by what I was reading. _How could Quill, or the writer of the letter, for that matter, know not only my full name, but also where I was at this moment? It was absolutely mad,_ I thought. No longer hesitant, I ripped open the envelope, and read through the letter. "Oh, my God..."

Even before I had my shoes completely tied, I was running up the steps to number twelve, just down the street. I banged heavily on the door, dancing around in anticipation. The letter was clutched in my fist, and I was shivering from the chilly morning air. Nobody was answering, so I reached up to pound the knocker again. As I reached, the huge door swung away, revealing a dark interior. Looking up, I met the face of… Sirius. Or, it looked like Sirius.

The tall, Sirius-like boy looked down at me, his eyes narrowing significantly. I could tell he either wasn't happy that I had woken him this early on a summer morning, or he thought I was a beggar of some sort who wanted a place to stay, or a loaf of bread. Either way, I knew he wasn't at all pleased, and looked like he wanted to kick me all the way to the Thames. "Get. Away," was all he said, his words dripping with harsh cold ice.

I answered, surprised, "W-what –"

"I said," He took a dramatic pause before repeating, "'Get. Away.'"

"Well, yes, I know that! I heard you the first time!" I replied testily, my left foot tapping away unhappily. I had quickly recovered from my state of shock, and was now quite displeased with the way he was treating me. "I'm here for a reason you know. I need to see Sirius."

The tall boy narrowed his eyes even more than before, looking down at me like I was some sort of pest. He began to slam the door closed when Sirius, flying down the stairs, ran past the tall boy and out the door, next to me. He looked defiantly up at the boy, pushing a piece of hair from his face. I looked from him to his taller, meaner version confusedly, before deciding to just tell Sirius right there.

"SIRIUS!"

He turned to me, surprised, and the tall boy looked at me, mild shock written on his face, as if he didn't expect me to know his name.

"Some stupid bird – well, not stupid. He's actually quite nice; I named him Quill – woke me up this morning, and you would not believe what he gave me! He just, he just… HOPPED IN, and stuck it's leg out and everything, and gave me a letter! And it was addressed to me, and –" I looked at my friend, who looked paler and more sickly than anyone I had ever seen. "Sirius?"

"Hogwarts?"

"What?" I looked at him, confused. He looked like he had said something of great importance, something urgent. I looked helplessly around, noticing the tall boy staring down at me, his mouth open. "Yeah, that's what the note said. It said I was a witch!" I laughed, my head tilting back in mirth, "How silly is that? There's such thing, right, Sirius?"

He blinked several times, his mouth still opened. He swallowed thickly, looking at me like I as insane, or had a rare, contagious disease. I seemed to be having difficultly finding the words to speak. "M-may… may I see the letter?" he asked, holding out his hand. I placed it in his hand silently, not speaking a word. I had enough sense to notice that this was very important to him. He read through the note, his eyes widening.

"You are a witch."

"Pfft! Sirius, don't be stupid! I'm not –"

"YES, you are, Jen. It's real. It exists."

I looked at him warily, my reasoning faltering. He seemed so sure of himself. "H-how do you know?"

"I'm a wizard," he mumbled, his voice so low I hardly heard him at all. "I'm going to Hogwarts, too."

I scoffed, my arms crossed, looking at him sternly. "Sirius, this isn't a joke –"

"I _know_ it's not! And I'm not joking!" he yelled, looking at me forcefully. I stood in shock, feeling my eyes fill with tears. "No, Jen…" And I ran away, shredding the paper as I went.

**Author's Note:** I hope you thought it was okay! It really isn't original or fun, but it does show a different side to Jen, when she's talking to Regulus (Who, if you haven't noticed, is actually a couple years older than Sirius in this story). She does have a strong side, too! This chapter is basically the set up for the rest of the story, so, of course, it will be edited a bit later on for two reasons:

_1.) to make it better. (tiny corrections that make a difference)__  
__2.) to tweak situations to make them better dramatically for the rest of the plot._I will notify you if anything has been changed. :) Thank you!

Please **read and review**! I love reviews because they modivate me so much, and help me improve in one swing! Thank you for all of those who did review the first chapter. That was magnificent; I never expected that many.


	3. All These Years

Chapter Three: Goodbye

**Author's Note:** Alright, I'm sorry. I'm not a reliable updater, I admit. The good thing is, this time I don't have a proper excuse, and therefore this note will be shorter.  
Enjoy!

As I raced away from Sirius, tears dripping from my cheeks and splattering on the sidewalk, I knew I wasn't crying because he hadn't told me, the whole times we had been friends. I almost understood that part; there was no doubt that I would have just laughed it off, saying he was joking if he _did_ tell me. It wouldn't have mattered at all; in fact, I would have forgotten it rather quickly. What really made me cry, however, was that, in not telling me, he lied. That was one thing I could not stand at all: lying. And because of my distaste for lying, our friendship, the only friendship I had had in years, was falling apart.

And I felt horrible.

Even though he was the one who lied, I had this awful feeling that it was my fault. It kept on going over and over in my mind that I was ripping the two of us apart and if I had excepted his apology, our friendship may be stronger than ever. After all, we were going to go to school together. We would never be apart, ever. That seemed so tempting. I really wanted to run back to him and apologize myself for running off, but I just couldn't bring myself to face him.

Going to that school would be a nightmare now. I'd have to see him if I went; I'd have to see him and feel horrible about what I had done to our friendship. I could see him looking at me helplessly, his gray eyes projecting sadness, tearing me apart from within. Eventually, I knew, I'd have to break and apologize; somehow, I knew my stubborn streak wouldn't help much with Sirius. The only person more stubborn than me is, well, Sirius – that fact could not be denied -- and I knew that he probably would look like a lost puppy forever, whenever he was around me. Great. I was eleven years old, and I was already laden with enough guilt to drive me insane.

Maybe an asylum would be good for me at this point. I had been weird for years by then; unnatural, unexplainable things happened around me. I knew I was different; maybe I had been insane all this time without know it. It surely would explain the owl and letter, as well as Sirius' reaction to my mention of Hogwarts. There was no way I could be a witch; for one, I didn't even believe they existed, wizards and witches, that is. The other reason is that magic itself did not exist, and therefore there could be no way any the events of that day could be real. Yeah, I was definitely either dreaming or certifiably insane.

The doorbell rang, but I didn't bother to get it. I already knew who it would be. In the next room, I heard my mother's bedding rustling, and then her door creaking open. I sighed, looking out the corner of my eye with an annoyed set to my lips. The bell rang again, but I still ignored it. I knew Mum would answer it anyways, so there was no point to it. I'd just have her tell him I was sick, and then explain the situation to her in full (if partially edited) detail. I already knew she would not be surprised. She was too used to my odd stories to really be alarmed.

I heard the door open, and a quick greeting from my mother, "Sirius! It's so nice to see you again! I was wondering when you'd stop by. You haven't been here it a while!"

"Oh, yeah. I'm sorry. My mum didn't feel comfortable with it. I convinced her though," Sirius explained. His voice sounded thick and sad.

"Are you alright, dear?"

Sirius hurried to correct her, "No, no! I'm fine. I'm just having a bad day. That's why I need to speak to Jen."

"I don't know it she's up yet…" my mother's voice trailed off as I heard her footsteps approaching the foot of the stairs. "Jen! Jenny! Are you awake? We have a visitor!"

I cringed, pulling a blanket from my closet and wrapping it around me. I dragged my feet tiredly, slumping out into the hall, before looking down the stairs and sniffling. "Mum, I'm not we- we- ACHOO!" I sniffled for effect, "Well."

My mum looked at me dubiously before turning to Sirius and back to me. She raised her eyebrows, turning back to face Sirius. "Sorry dear! It seems she's too sick to play today. We wouldn't want you to get sick!" Mum said, shooing Sirius out the door, "Goodbye," she said, her voice dripping with fake happiness. As soon as the door closed on Sirius' stunned face, she whipped around to glare at me. "GENEVA MARIE! What in the world is wrong with you?"

I looked at her guiltily, adding a small sniffle.

"Tell me, NOW."

I sighed, shrugging off the blanket and slowly making my way downstairs.

Hogwarts, for the first five and a half years, was pretty much the same events repeating over and over again. Each year, my best friend Lily and I came back, hoping for change and maturity to creep up. And each year, we were wrong. There were, of course, interesting things that happened around us, but never to us. Lily still always rejected James, her everlasting admirer and friend of Sirius. Sirius and I had hardly spoken since the day I found out he lied. On the rare occasions we did talk, it was because he had dropped a quill or something. These conversations rarely consisted of more than one sentence.

School itself was interesting; in it's own way. As soon as I arrived at Hogwarts, sorted into Gryffindor, and was given my schedule, I knew what I would excel in. Transfiguration, though it was difficult at times, always excited me, and because of my interest in the subject, I came to be one of the best in my year. In the rest of my classes, I was considered blatantly average, besides Potions, with a fail multiple times (I had only just passed in fifth year because of some intense studying and tutoring, courtesy of Lily). Unfortunately, I needed to take potions in order to pursue my career as a healer.

My social life mirrored my academic career: it was average. I had great friends, Lily and the rest of my roommates, Cora, Irene, Alice, and Dorcas, who were always kind and good friends to me, even if we had a few rows in the past. Outside of my roommates, I was only friends with a select few, mostly from Quidditch, which I love to death, and classes. I didn't make friends much, and when I did it was usually because I was partnered with them, in any subject besides Potions that is. Everyone I know that has partnered with me in that class has a valid reason to hate me: I'm sure ugly purple patches of skin and abnormally long toenails caused by my potions gone wrong will upset people. Truly, my only other real friend was James Potter, who I know I would not be the same without, by some strange twist of fate.

In the very beginning of third year, we all had our very first Hogsmeade trip. Seeing as we were all considered relatively old, we figured out that it was about time to start dating for the first time. Now, there were a few of us who had dated before – three guesses who – which only made it all the more important to be seen in Hogsmeade with a date on our arm. I remember clearly how frantic I was the week before that first trip. It seemed like everyone, excluding the people I actually knew, had dates, and I was pulling my hair out to get one of my own. I knew at that point that the very first boy who asked me would be my date. Lo and behold, James asked me the day of the trip, and I immediately said yes to the handsome boy.

The date went quite well. We stopped by the Three Broomsticks for butterbeer, went to Zonko's to restock James' pranking kit, and we went into a quaint little bookshop for myself, so I could order something to read in my free time. When we stopped by Madame Puddifoot's for a sip of coffee and sat down, I immediately noticed who was sitting at the table behind James. Lily and Remus, on a date, just like us. When James turned to see what I was looking at, I saw him stiffen. And that's the first time I realized he fancied Lily.

I had never been able to pry out of him precisely how long he's fancied her, nor why he had asked me at all. I asked him for weeks after our date, bothering the hell out of him. Eventually it became a sort of game or ritual, and we became fast friends. Later on, he introduced me to Exploding Snap and Quidditch, which he taught me himself. Soon, I gained enough experience that I was confident enough to try out for the team, and I made it. I'm considered the first muggleborn girl to ever be on a Hogwarts team, a title that both irritates and flatters me.

Even though I was a friend to James, as well as Remus and Peter, I never did speak to Sirius. Only Lily knew exactly why, and I suspected James did, too. He was, after all, a smart boy, so I figured he's figure it out, even if Sirius hadn't told him anything. I kept it a secret exactly why, even through the rumors that crept up about it…

All of our Quidditch team would sit almost every night studying, talking, and laughing, usually about our next game or what the Marauder's next prank could be. It was a sort of tradition that we held since my fifth year, when James decided to break the tension caused by O.W.L.S. At first nobody noticed my aversion to Sirius, but eventually it became everyone's new hobby to question us about the whole thing. When neither of us would tell anyone, people started jumping to conclusions. "What, did you date?" was the first, but eventually it expanded into a heated shag in a broom closet. I couldn't help but gag at the thought, but Sirius just laughed it off, waving his had to expel the talk. He usually added in something along the lines of, "She'd have to go absolutely mental before I get into her pants," and a nice long laugh.

Every once and awhile, the subject would come up again, but every time, I left it to Sirius to take care of it. It wasn't worth it to actually tell them the truth. I have actually considered it before, mind you, but it sound pretty idiotic to say 'we were best friends but he lied and I'm _still_ angry." In fact, it's downright childish. I was quite surprised when Lily agreed with me over it when I told her, probably because we were in second year at the time. In any case, I figured I would just let them think I'm a tart.

Now, it's the end of seventh year, on the train back home. Irene and Alice are asleep, snoring rather loudly, but other than that I am alone. Everyone else went off to find other friends, or to the prefects meeting. So, here I am, writing about my year. I figure if I don't write everything down now, I'll forget it all. Then where will I be when my grandchildren ask if I knew a Marauder?

Anyway, this is my diary, about the best year of my life, and the best friends anyone could ever ask for.

**Author's Note:** I'm finished with the boring part: the introduction! Now on to the juicy stuff... yumm.


	4. Beginning Again

Chapter Four: Beginning Again

**Author's Note: **I have to admit, I was a bit disappointed in the lack of reviews. Maybe that should be telling me something. But do I listen? Of course not! :) Read on.

_"It was the morning after we returned to Hogwarts for the last time. Just like I remembered, we all woke at about the same time, waving to each other drowsily. We each took turns with the two individual showers in the bathrooms, putting on our school kits, and applying makeup. It all seemed so robotic and normal, that it was hard to believe it was the last time I felt so refreshed at Hogwarts."_

It was quite silent as we headed to breakfast. The other students we passed looked both tired and slightly depressed, or excited and happy. The happy people seemed to be the ones with numerous friends surrounding them, or with books stacked in their arms. I tugged on my bag again, blinking slowly.

Soon we were outside the Great Hall, taking a breath before entering. It always seemed to be a big deal to enter it for the second time in a year, more so than the first. It has a feeling of loss and accomplishment, and that mixture of emotions never made me feel particularly pleasant. With on more breath, I tugged Lily's sleeve, pulling her along.

I laughed suddenly, making Lily turn to look at me and back to James. "YOUR IN ON THIS!" she screeched at me, pointing from me to James in a twitch-like fashion. I shook my head and smiled at her, then at James. At least James had gotten it over with. I turned away to walk towards my seat. I heard a loud grunt from the front of the hall, whipping around just in time to see James crumpling over with a look of shear pain. Lily must have kicked him, and none too softly at that, right where it counted. I stifled a laugh as well as the guilty feeling forming in my stomach, rushing to help him up as Lily brushed past me indignantly. I'd try talk to her later to calm her down enough to go to lessons later.

"Lils? Look at me!" She looked up from her egg, a small glare evident on her pretty face. "What's wrong with you? I thought you hated eggs –"

"Aren't they supposed to make you smarter?"

"I suppose…" I answered, wondering why she thought she needed to be smarter.

She looked back to her plate to glower at the poor eggs, which were still quivering from her vicious forking.

"Lily, you should not have done that –"

"Save it! I'm tired of him bothering me all of the time. For Merlin's sake, we're seventeen! We can't frickin' _marry_ or anything, well, we can, but it's not like I'd want too! And I feel so… so _stupid_ for feeling bad about _not_ accepting!" _Oh, that's why_  
"I know –"

"No, you don't!"

"Lily, you're missing my point." She glared before gesturing for me to continue.

"He didn't mean anything by it. I mean, I'm sure he'd calm down if you'd just go on one date with him." She opened her mouth. "Shush! Listen. I'm not going to tell you to, but still! Causing permanent damage to his… man… parts…" I cleared my throat before continuing, "Well, you catch my drift," I finished as I saw her gag. "Anyway, it was in front of the whole school, Lily! It's a little far don't you think? Your Head Girl! You set the example! And, in any case, you know even better than I that he is Head Boy. You're supposed to work together, not kicking him in front of an audience!"

She nodded, looking a bit guilty. "I know your right," she sighed, "But he proposed to me! Every other year I thought he was joking, but did you see that ring? He meant it! The whole time! And I felt bad, so I kicked him."

"You kicked him… because you felt, er, _bad_ for him? Lily, that makes no sense!" I struggled to keep down my laughter, which was now bubbling in my throat. I saw her eyes fill up with tears, and gasped, my laughter dissolving. "Please, please don't do that! You know it only makes it worse –" I was cut off by a sob. "Lily, Lily, please!" I pulled her hands away from her face, and, lo and behold, she really was crying. Tears were streaking down her face, and she was already red and puffy. I took her by the shoulder, shielding her as I guided her from the hall and back up to our dormitory.

I pushed her onto her bed, placing my hands on my hips. I looked at her red face with a look of pity. "Why exactly are you crying?"

"W-why does he still l-love me? I h-hurt him s-s-so many times, and h-he brought me a ring. A r-real engagement ring! Y-you know how I t-treat the bloke, b-but I never r-really meant it, not _really_. Well, I sup-p-pose once or… or…" she broke out in fresh tears, and I immediately swooped down beside her to hug her tightly. "I'm so horrible to him!"

"Shh, shh…" I muttered soothingly, rubbing circles in her back. "Are you sure you feel that way? Is it because of what I said or –"

"It was the ring, damn it!" she screamed at me. I winced. I never liked dealing with any kind of… that stuff. "He spent thousands on that bloody ring! I've never frickin' seen a _rock_ that size," she yelled passionately, her voice climbing up an octave, "and it was a diamond! A huge, beautiful, gorgeous, lovely diamond!"

"Oh, Lily," I said, patting her lightly. She shrugged off my hand stubbornly. "Lily, Please! Calm down! Remember last year when he bought you those lovely emerald rings for your birthday?" She wailed louder. I waved my hands defensively, my voice squeaking, "You didn't cry then!"

"This is _different_!"

"How is it that different? Those emeralds were heirlooms, worth a fortune –"

"He meant it! He doesn't like me because he's a bloke and wants that kind of stuff, he loves me! And all I've ever been to him was cruel and… and…"

"Lils, maybe it's time you act… decent to him."

"Decent?"

"Yeah."

"Oh," she said quietly, looking down at her school skirt, which was slightly ruffled from the run upstairs.

"Look, Lily. I know today's the first day of lessons, but maybe, perhaps you should take a break. Go to the Hospital Wing for some Calming Draught. I'm sure they'll excuse you from lessons."

Much to my surprise, Lily looked up, sniffling, but smiling. "Alright, I can't believe I'm doing what you tell me, but alright. I can't stand to see him again, anyway." She stood up, marching out the door and down the stairs. I followed her quickly. When she reached the bottom and I rounded the corner, she screamed yet again, bursting into a fresh set of tears. She had seen the rest of the Marauders, all looking vaguely mournful, by the fireplace, James absent from their midst. I took her by the shoulder yet again, leading her out of the common room softly.

"Oh shit! Getroff!"

I jumped at that greeting as we entered the Hospital Wing a few minutes later. Before us the Healer, known as Madame Ulliel, was forcibly tugging down the pants of James Potter, who was currently not only looking like he was trying to drag a bolted bed between him and the old bat, but like he was rather unhappy over the condition of his well-formed arse.

"Mister Potter! You know that I can't possibly perform a swelling-reducing charm without seeing the area in question –"

"There is no way I'll ever let you see my –" he broke off, turning pale as he spotted us, frozen in the doorway. "Lily!"

Out of the corner of my eye, I could see Lily flush a deep scarlet. James was standing there, clutching a bed frame, and struggling to keep his pants on as Madame Ulliel tugged at them. I blushed myself, thinking of what she had to see to make the swelling go down… I could tell he was in for a hell of a lot of embarrassment and pain, and I couldn't help but feel sorry for the poor bloke.

On the other hand, I knew Lily would be feeling horrible. She wasn't stupid in any way; she would definitely connect that she was the reason for his current state of misery (and slight peril). She walked forward, sitting on the edge of the bed farthest from James, facing the wall. I could see she was trying to hold back laughter, and I instantly burst out into a nervous fit of giggles as I looked back at James.

In his momentary lapse in concentration, not only had Madame Ulliel extracted him from his pants, but he had also gone glassy eyed and beat red. I laughed again, snapping him out of his reverie, only to here him yell, "MERLIN! What happened to my pants?" The pants in question were neatly folded on the bed he was clutching. For a while, he stood there staring at them, contemplating, probably something around the lines of him and Lily being in the same room while he was only half-dressed.

I heard the sound of hands brushing across a skirt, and Madame Ulliel's voice floating from her office. "Now dearies, what can I do for you?"

"Oh, Lily only needs a calming draught. I'm just going to… er, _go_ now."

James turned to stare at me a bit, but he seemed to have realized why I was so uncomfortable and dived for his pants, pulling them on and fastening them swiftly. "I'll just leave then, too –"

"OH NO YOU DON'T POTTER!" Madame Ulliel shrieked from the other room, hurrying out to catch him. She swiped her wand a bit, and James froze beside me. With a swift look of sympathy, I hurried out and to my first class, Potions.

I was already late.

**Author's Note: **I know, a little dramatic! And probably too much for the first day. However, I know that my story has been slow so far, so I had to hook you again, and this is my way to do that! Next chapter: A twist on a cliché!


	5. Potions

Chapter Five: Unbelievable

**Author's Note:** I'm starting to like the long stretches of validation times. I actually feel proactive now; I have two whole chapters written, as well as a nice little action/drama/sort-of-creepy scene written, which I plan to insert sometime after the Christmas holidays.

I arrived in the dungeons out of breath and almost thirty minutes late for the lesson. Pausing outside the door, I listened to Slughorn reintroduce himself and set down the same class rules as last year. I heaved a heavy sigh, pushing the door open silently and attempting to slide in without being noticed. I tiptoed quietly to my seat, every student's eyes on me. Slughorn, however, didn't seem to notice my entrance and continued on to his next speech on the importance of NEWTS this year. I sat down in my usual chair, the stool beside me absent of my usual partner, Lily, and dropped my bag beside me.

"If, however, you do not get top marks, you will probably not attain your desired profession, and therefore not live the life you both wanted and strived for over the seven years of your young life. There are many ways to let your marks fall, so it is important to pay attention to homework, lectures, examples, notes, and tardiness, as Miss Steller has so kindly demonstrated this morning," Slughorn said jollily, somehow injecting his voice with a nice tone and a firm attitude, turning to me with a slightly sour look on his face that seemed to have the same pleasant glow simultaneously. I often wondered how he did that. I felt myself smile happily back at him as he took a breath to continue. "Detention Friday night, at eight. I expect much more out of my NEWT level students, Miss Steller, and I will not put up with sluggishness anymore. I'm sure you know where Miss Evans and Mister Potter are?"

"Yes and no, Professor," I sighed, "He is in need of treatment at the Infirmary and she isn't feeling very well, so she may be late."

"Do give her my well-wishes."

"Yes, Professor," I replied, rolling my eyes as I turned away from him. It was so Slughorn of him not to give James his well wishes, only Lily. She was, after all, one of his favorite students.

"Very good! Lets carry on. NEWT level students are expected to…" Slughorn instructed, rambling on and on over the bad points of failing this year at Hogwarts, the consequences. After about twenty minutes of the lecture, Lily walked into the room confidently and handed him a slip of paper before hurrying to her stool beside me.

"Now that we are all here," Slughorn continued, glancing at Lily with a chuckle. She blushed apologetically. "We can divide into our pairs for the year. Now, I know you have had the same partners since OWLS, but this year we need to freshen up the class. I hope this will make you less reliant on each other, and confident in your own skills, rather than your partner's." There was a splattering of murmured through the class, but it quickly died out. I figured, after two years of working with someone you may or may not like, you can get a bit worn from being pestered about brewing some potion constantly. That's why I liked being friends with Lily: it never bothered me, because I wanted to spend time with her anyway. And, as an added bonus, she was an excellent potioneer, which offsets my complete lack of the skill needed to brew anything half-decent.

"Sirius Black and Irene Blackwell." A feminine huffing sound and a low chuckle. "Lilac Brown and Sebastian Crab." A disgusted gasp and a small grunt. "Amos Diggory and Antonin Dolohov." The shuffling of paper and a small growl.

And so it went, until…

"Lily Evans and Athena Finch." I saw Athena smile warmly at Lily, and Lily returned the smile with a dazzling one of her own.

I concentrated on the clock ticking away in the background.

"Severus Snape and Geneva Steller."

I groaned. How did I guess? I was always paired off with Snape when we were sorted alphabetically. Though I knew he was a good person deep down, a sentiment I shared with Lily, who was his only true friend until the year before, I also disliked his greasy, slimy Slytherin attitude towards muggleborns. He had never even liked me to begin with, since I was a muggleborn. I picked up my book bag, which now seemed to be much more of a burden, and slowly made my way to where Snap sat, glaring at me. I was now deep into the hostile territory of the Slytherin's lair. I was bound to pay for trespassing later, but then all I could think about was the dirty scalp of Severus Snape, with the hooked nose underneath it turned in my direction. He looked like a crow, in my opinion, feeding off of death and destruction. I shivered yet again, slowly drawing my textbook from my bag and letting in land with a _thump_ on the desk before me. "So… what are we doing?"

"You _never_ listen do you?"

"…No," I answered, trying to sound as cheery as possible to lighten the shadows that lay heavily on the corner in which I sat. I looked over to where the Gryffindor's where, seeing a few pairs laughing and hitting it off. Remus was looking worriedly between and Sirius, who had never gotten on well with Irene. Sirius caught his eye, but Remus quickly pulled away, turning his head back towards me. Sirius' eyes followed him. I quickly mouthed a 'Help me' before my partner tapped me quickly on the shoulder with the tip of his quill.

Snape hissed, "Oh, don't think I'll do your work for you, mudblood." I grimaced, looking straight into his eyes.

"Language, please!"

He allowed a humorless laugh. "I don't speak to mudbloods like they're my equal."

My eyes lit up with fire, and I glared with him with all the force I could muster, standing up so I towered over him. However, Snape's eyes were looking past my shoulders. I turned to glare into the eyes of my savior, Remus. "Care to repeat that, Snape?"

Snape, looking more furious then I had ever seen him before, never said a word. Remus took my forearm protectively and guided me away to sit in the light of the Gyffindor half of the room. As he guided me away, he looked positively livid, whether because he had to talk to Snape or because of the grease-ball calling me a mudblood, I didn't have a clue. "You should talk to Slughorn."

I looked stubbornly into his chocolate eyes. I knew that was what I should do, but I couldn't bring myself to. "I won't let him intimidate me."

"He will hurt you –"

"No, he won't. He doesn't have the courage. He's a cowardly little thing, he'll try to hurt you with words, but he wouldn't dare harm you physically."

Remus raised his eyebrows at me, and I suddenly doubted myself. "Fine. But if he does a thing –"

"Remus, I know. But if he so much as touches me I'll die anyway," I reassured in a hushed tone, "I won't let him bother me anymore, I promise."

"Jen, you're a good person and a great friend, but you do tend to have a bit of a temper when it comes to –"

"_Don't worry_, Remus!" I interrupted in firm voice, "I can handle it! I'm a big girl now!"

"Jen –"

"Shush!"

Sirius appeared behind Remus, his face curious. "What's happening?"

"Jen won't tell Slughorn about Snape calling her a mudblood," Remus stated firmly, his face looking as if it was etched from granite. It was pale again, and I worried briefly about his health. His arms were folded tightly against his chest, his stance unyielding and stiff, as if he was ready for a fight at any moment.

"Oh," Sirius chuckled, looking directly at me. I turned my head lightly so I could stare straight into his stormy eyes. They were sparkling in amusement and seemed to be applauding me, for whatever reason. "Good."

"No, not good!"

Sirius sighed grandly, placing a large hand on Remus' shoulder as if to calm him. "Moony, you know she's right."

"Oh really?" Remus retorted bitingly, a small smirk on his face as he looked over my shoulder. Sirius looked at what Remus was eyeing, too, and seemed to go pale.

"Damn it," Sirius muttered, his face clouding over.

"What –"

"MISS STELLER!"

"Damn it," I mumbled under my breath.

"Do you mind explaining why you're not helping your partner with his potion?" His question was obviously rhetorical, so I didn't bother to answer. He probably wouldn't have accepted it anyway, judging by the way his face was coloring. Snape was behind him, his face superior, and I felt a burst of annoyance and anger.

"Professor, he —"

"Detention for the rest of the week."

"PROFESSOR!"

"There should be no excuse –"

Sirius cleared his throat loudly, stepping up next to me. "Professor, she didn't do anything wrong, she –"

"There should be no excuse, Mister Black! Detention tonight for you, also."

"Professor, what did he do? He was just trying to help!"

"Silence, Miss Steller. Go back to work with Severus. I want you to be the absolute epitome of a partner! Understood?"

I stared at him in silence, feeling everyone in the room's eyes me to see what I would do next. I was completely shocked: not once in my six years of taking this class had I ever heard Slughorn give out more than one detention to anybody, much less make an incident of the whole thing. "No." Shocked gasps met my ears. I turned, grabbing my bag, and walked out of the room, my head held high.

"This is going to be a long year…" I said to myself as I pounded up the staircase. "A very, _very_ long year."

**Author's Note:** Yeah! Not the cliché expected, right? wide grin I was originally going to stick her with Sirius, as per usual, but it made me a tad sick to my stomach. That's been done so many times, and I don't exactly want Sirius acting weird with her yet. Sorry. Not quite.

Oh, and I realize that Slughorn is a little discolored, a little OOC. I'm sorry about that, but I needed a catalyst for her temper.

Read... and _review_? hopeful smile


	6. What a Prize

Chapter Six: Bloody Slughorn

I sustained my march away from the dungeons with dim hopes for the future. I was sure McGonagall already knew about my disobedience in Potions, and I was positive I would not come out of this punishment unscathed. Not if McGonagall or Sirius had anything to do with it.

I turned a sharp corner, my chin still lifted stubbornly in the air. I knew I was on the verge of being in a hell of a lot of trouble. McGonagall did no mess around when it came to the discipline of her students; my punishment would be long and painful… I just hoped it wouldn't affect Quidditch. I couldn't stand telling James I was off the team, especially so early in the year.

I wondered vaguely if he was still in the hospital wing, fighting off Ulliel. I chuckled lightly, continuing on my way to the one place I could find peace at a time like this in Hogwarts: Hagrid's hut.

I passed under the monstrous, rusty clock, making my way across the cobblestone courtyard, brooding darkly. It didn't seem fair at all that I would get in trouble for standing up for myself. I had always heard there was zero tolerance for reference to impure blood at Hogwarts; I was sure it wouldn't change if Slughorn's favorite student said it. Blood Slytherins. Not a decent person in the lot.

I was now tripping my way down the well-worn stone path the Hagrid's. I had to admit; the view from this place was breath taking, even when you're in a foul mood. The tall, looming trees of the Forest, the rugged rocks and cliffs, the dramatic hills and mountains framed in the back, all cast in the cloudy light of a Scottish autumn cleansed something in your soul. You couldn't stand to be angry or frustrated at all when gazing at the landscape here; I wondered if it was part of the magic of this place.

As I approached the humble cabin, the sound of splintering wood grew louder. Hagrid was out back, chopping away at a considerable amount of the Forest. I smiled, folding my arms and watching silently. Soon, he was standing there, a pile of wood beside him, wiping his sweaty face. "Hello, Hagrid."

He jumped, shaking the earth a bit. I smiled a bit wider. This was why I came here; it was so easy to be happy around Hagrid. He was staring at me now. "'Ello Jen! Have't seen yer all summer!" he exclaimed in her rough voice, "You 'ave grown!"

"I missed you, Hagrid," I laughed.

"I missed yer, too, Jen. Havin' a bad day?"

"You know me too well," I sighed, my arms falling helplessly to my sides. My bag slipped off my shoulder and fell to the ground with a low _thunk_. Wiping his dirty hands quickly on his leathery vest, he ushered me inside, sitting me down at the table by the fire. He was already boiling water for tea by the time I spoke again. "I don't understand it."

"Wha'?"

"Why does it matter _so much_ that I'm a muggleborn?" I questioned rhetorically, "What makes me so different from the purest of purebloods? I mean, we're all human, we are all worthy of anything we think we can do! What makes _us_ so different?" I asked him, my voice growing more passionate by the word. My eyes started tearing, and I wiped at them angrily, my hands falling to me sides in knots.

"A Slytherin?" I nodded. "Which un?"

"Snape," I snarled, my fists tightening menacingly.

He set the massive mug of tea in front of me. I sipped at it, letting the heat sooth me.

"Eh, he's a bad un. Never knows when ter stop."

I nodded again.

He sighed, sitting down next to me. "Jen, don't let 'im get ter yur."

I exhaled, my mind still whirling in angry circles. "Yes, I know. Thank you, Hagrid," I smiled a small smile, standing, "Now I just… just hope that I won't get punished too harshly!" I let a small sniffle pass, and I saw him smile kindly. With me standing, and him sitting on that chair, we were at eyelevel. "I'll see you later."

"Alrigh'! Hurry back ter class!"

I nodded quickly, looking back up at the school with a panicked look as the bell chimed, signaling the release of the first class. _Have I really been here that long?_ With one last wave, I darted up the hill as quickly as possible, my mind only on how I could possibly get to the Divination tower in time.

Despite running full out up eight flights of stairs, down four corridors, and crawling up one ladder, I was still late for Divination… if only by ten minutes. Pushing the trap door to the classroom open, and crawling into the view of all my classmates (and one petulant looking teacher), I surveyed my seating options once again. On the many levels of seating in the tower, there were low mahogany tables with little stools padded with Indian silks surrounding them in a semicircle; three per table. Of all the tables, there were few empty seats; a couple Slytherin tables had options, which I didn't even consider. One Hufflepuff table had a seat, too, however, since I didn't really know the Hufflepuff blokes already sitting there, I didn't attempt to approach that table either. The Gryffindors all had filled their seats, except at one table, where there were two people sitting, holding a conversation in whispers: James and Peter. Evidently, Sirius and Remus had been smart enough to quit the class while they had the chance. I made my way to the table quickly, hoping Professor Carpingly wasn't in the mood for making a fuss about my tardiness, like Slughorn. With my luck she probably would, but then again, the old bat fancied me as her best student.

I sat in the seat next to Peter quietly, my luck still holding. I breathed a sigh of relief.

"Hey, Jen," Peter waved at me. I smiled; I had always liked Peter. He was always so enthusiastic and willing to help; his squeaky laugh seemed to be infectious, too. For me, it was always easy to see why he had fit in with the Marauders, though many people questioned it. He may not be as extraordinarily handsome as the rest, but he wasn't particularly bad to look at. He had a knack for coming up with ingenious pranks and plans, and he had a fantastic personality, once you grew to know him. The only thing he could possibly be faulted for was his apparent lack of the normal amount of wit… and, in a Gryffindor's case, his lack of courage, especially when facing punishment. "How was your summer?"

"Excellent, you, Peter?"

"Excellent," he grinned, his boyish cheeks glowing with warmth. The grin immediately made me smile even wider, my anxiety growing lighter by the second.

"And you, James?" James looked up at me sadly, and I let my grin slip from my face. Something was definitely wrong. "James? What's wrong?" He shook his head sadly. "I can't help –"

"Silence, class. We next absolute silence as I slip into the beyond…"

"Must've forgotten her lesson plans," Peter snickered, distracting me from James.

"Eh, I think she just wants to sleep. Can't be easy to sleep with all those… those crystal balls lying about," I smiled, giving Peter a tiny wink. He wrinkled his nose to keep from laughing. Behind him, even James seemed to be cracking a smile. It was a very well known rumor that Carpingly had been sleeping with Professor Lethbridge all through our third year, starting with an incident involving codfish. The rumors had spread so quickly and with such intensity that Dumbledore had banned the mention of codfish within the school grounds. Unfortunately, the rumor had already stained the 'innocent' minds of Hogwarts. I smirked slightly at the thought. "Or codfish."

Peter giggled hysterically, and even James was chuckling under his breath. Carpingly glared up at us through her veil of thin fabric she claimed was to help her focus on the Other Dimension. I just thought it was a cheap tablecloth she had cast a spell on to make it transparent. I nudged James and Peter to smile charmingly at her, and she smiled pleasantly back, returning to staring cross-eyed at the fabric. The laughter broke out again, this time behind our hands. She didn't look up again.

The Hufflepuffs ahead of us seemed to be paying attention to Carpingly's display, and turned in unison to hush us, with only served to make us burst out into a fight of full-volume chortles. The Hufflepuffs sighed in exasperation, as Carpingly screeched, looking around the room for the source of the noise. Struggling with composure, all three of us were wiggling in our seats to keep from laughing.

Peter let out a small giggle, and I sighed, much like the Hufflepuffs. _Stupid old Peter._

"POTTER! PETTEGREW!"

They both looked to me and back at Carpingly. "BUT WE DIDN'T DO ANYTHING!" James exclaimed, throwing his hands up.

"YOU WERE INTERUPTING MY MEDITATION. I told you, repeatedly, not to. I'm sure you were disturbing your classmates, especially poor Miss Steller. Poor dear, being stuck with you lot." I looked at her, my mouth agape. "Miss Steller, I'll move you so you won't be disturbed in the future. Perhaps by… Mister Crabb and Miss Armandis?"

"No, no Professor, I'm just fine –"

"Oh, but I want my top student to pay attention and be able to continue to explore the realms of the Great Beyond!" I blushed. She was obviously referring to the OWL exam… I had written a load of bull on the test paper, and some how I had passed… with an Outstanding. After that, she had acted like she thought I _actually cared_…

Peter snickered, "Great Beyond… _right_…"

"But Professor, I'd rather not—"

"Please move, Miss Steller."

"Professor –"

"_MOVE_."

Rolling my eyes dramatically, I stood, dragging my bag to the desolate seat beside the Slytherin couple. I was having _the worst_ luck today.

Forty minutes and many depressed thoughts later, I was standing in the corridor, my back pressed against a cool wall. I took a couple deep breaths, trying to gather the courage to go to the next class. I knew something was going to happen to make me regret going at all, so I wanted to be prepared for the onslaught. When my head was clear and my heart was light with the cool air of the corridor, I stomped off to my next class, Transfiguration.

There were few people in the corridor as I walked. They seemed in a hurry, so I glanced at my watch to check the time. Two minutes until class. Luckily, Transfiguration was close by, but I jogged the rest of the way just in case. The bell would probably ring a minute early with the luck I had been having that day.

Luckily, I ran through the door the second the bell rang, and quickly looked for a seat. There was only one open, so I took it without hesitation, not even stopping to see who my partner was. "Fancy seeing you here," an alluring voice whispered in my ear. I shivered at the strange, rough sound of it, and turned my head to look into the deep, tempestuous eyes of Sirius Black.

My eyes widened a bit as I took in what I had just done. I had sat next to Sirius. I swallowed roughly, my head spinning a bit. Why was he leaning towards me like that? He couldn't possibly want to_ talk_. Not with me, anyway. "Right, yeah. Er… nice to see you too?"

He nodded, a smile gracing his pink lips. I glanced at them fleetingly, before quickly turning to look towards the front of the class, flipping my hair over my shoulder to shield me from him. "Nice to see you too," he replied pleasantly, "How was your summer?"

"Alright. Yours?" I said, grimacing slightly at the thought of exchanging pleasantries with Black. We hadn't talked like this since… before I received my letter. I quickly searched for the reason why he would change, and settled with the 'he feels like we friends since he defended me (unnecessarily) in Potions' case.

"Wretched," he answered, not sounding at all like he was unhappy with the fact. I checked his face dubiously for any signs of sarcasm, and found none.

"Ah."

"We havn't talked in a while."

"Yeah."

"I wonder why." Again with the strangely sincere tone! Again, I glanced at his face, but he looked completely… serious. I bit my tongue, letting the conversation fall into silence. "We should talk more often," he muttered in my ear, his breath tickling my neck softly. I shuddered.

_Definitely_ not a normal day. Now all I had to do was go to detention… all alone with Sirius Black. What a treat. I rolled my eyes to myself, half-listening to McGonagall lecturing about NEWTs _What. A. Prize. _

__

**Author's Note: **Yay! Finally, a conversation between the main characters! I found that writing that... it was incredibly fun. I actually think my OC might just WORK with Sirius! Eek! But I don't want to flatter myself too much without being sure, so... opinions? Thanks, you all are fantastic.

Also, on the topic of Peter. I know it isn't the traditional way to charactrerizing him, but I stand by it. I do not think that Peter was obviously evil or disgusting or dreadful, otherwise the Marauders wouldn't have been friends with him. I just think he let his cowardice get the best of him, and then... Voldemort _tainted_ him. So I don't want to hear that you think my Peter is totally wrong; with the Marauders in Hogwarts, JK Rowling described them very losely, so there are plenty of ideas individual to each author on each character. So there. :D

Codfish.


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